Candy Crossed
by Wonkaverse
Summary: What if the characters from the 1970's musical "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" and the 2005 movie "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" somehow met? Find out in this adventure, suggested by valued reader Retro Mania.
1. Presently

**Disclaimer** : Main characters belong to Roald Dahl and Warner Bros.

 **Author's Note** : Thank you, retro mania, for suggesting this story. It was fun to write!

* * *

It had been nearly a year since the Wonka Candy Corporation had put on the Golden Ticket Contest. Everyone knew the story: five children and their parents went into the factory, and four…things and their parents came out. Following this, the world was set abuzz for weeks about the drastic changes that had come over the four ticket finders, along with dark rumors about the fifth, who could not be found for interviewing. There were talk shows and radio shows denouncing the safety of Wonka's factory, and lawsuit after lawsuit. In the end, of course, the lawsuits were shot down because of the contract that the children had all signed at the beginning of the tour, and once the real story got out about how the children had not followed the safety rules, the outcry against Wonka disappeared entirely. Now it seemed that everything was getting back to normal, or as normal as could be for the four unfortunate children who had suffered for their mistakes. But it wouldn't be that way for long…

 _Willy Wonka's Factory_  
Inventing Room

It was still early, the sun a long way from coming up outside. But Willy Wonka as wide awake, strolling through his favorite room in the factory. It was filled, as always, with mounds of hissing and steaming machinery that beeped and blinked as he passed them by. How he loved this room! He smiled fondly to himself as he stopped by the Everlasting Gobstopper machine, watching as the multicolored candies rolled down the conveyor belt and tumbled into the receiving bucket at the end. And Charlie loves the factory, too, Wonka thought, removing his hat to run a hand through his eccentrically curly hair. The young boy would still be asleep at this hour, and would not wake up until the sun was well into the sky. He would breakfast with his family in the Chocolate Room, and they would all get ready to work with Wonka in the factory. Willy Wonka's smile broadened as he thought about it, feeling a deep sense of happiness wash over him. He had been alone for so long, even with the Oompa-Loompa to keep him company, but now he had an heir, and a family as well. If there was such a thing as luck, no doubt he had his fair share of it. He let his eyes wander around the Inventing Room as he mused these things, at the same time also wondering if he should join the Buckets for breakfast…then he froze. Not literally, but he probably would have preferred it that way. He as looking at a table where there had once been a number of boxes, but they were gone. He forced himself to move, rushing over to the table and looking on the floor around it to make sure the boxes had not simply been moved. Nope. He checked the other stations around the table—the Hair Toffee workbench and the Fizzy Chocolate vats and the racks that held the Singing Lollies (next summer's big hit), but what he was looking for was nowhere to be found. Wringing his hands, he went over to an intercom set into the nearest wall and pressed a button. Within moments, a funny little orange-faced man with green hair appeared. He went up toe Wonka and looked up at him, since he stood no higher than Wonka's waist.

"It's awfully early, sir," he said with a high voice. "Is there something wrong?"

Wonka smiled patiently. "I apologize for waking you up, Jonju, but this could be an emergency. There were boxes of candies I was still working on, sitting on that table yesterday. Did someone move them?"

Jonju produced a clipboard from somewhere within his white overalls and flipped through the pages. "Looks like the only thing anyone did in here yesterday was pick up those candies you had ready for shipment…the Raspberry Toffee Crèmes? Says here the packagers picked them up off Table 10 and sent them to Delivery."

Willy Wonka turned pale, the color draining out of his face like ink from a soaked newspaper. "Please tell me they haven't been shipped yet," he rasped.

Jonju consulted the pages again, his expression grim. "Sorry, sir, but they went out at midnight, for security and all. What seems to be the problem? Those candies are safe, aren't they?"

"There's been a mix-up," Wonka said quietly, fiddling with his bowtie. "The Raspberry Toffee Crèmes were on Table 11…I moved them last minute to make room for my new project. The Packagers took the wrong candies." He wrung his hands. "Do you know where the candies were sent? I need to get them back as soon as possible."

Jonju didn't point out the fact that his employer was dodging the real question. He merely referred again to his notes. "Interesting."

"What is it?"

"Well," the Oompa-Loompa replied, "there were four boxes, so they were split into four separate shipments…and they're being sent to the other Ticket winners."

Wonka seemed to deflate, catching the edge of a nearby shelf to stop himself from dropping to the floor in disbelief. Not at the news that the four Ticket winners were getting candy—even though they'd forfeited their lifetime supply of candy after breaking the rules during the Tour, Wonka had a slight change of heart during the last of the lawsuits and conceded to send each Ticket winner a hefty supply of candy as a consolation…and so that they'd stop harassing him. In fact, the shipment that had apparently gone out a few hours ago was to be the first installment of several; ironic that it just so happened to contain Wonka's latest and greatest candy creation that wasn't even ready yet. Wonka drew in a slow breath to steady himself as he tried to remain calm.

"Are you okay, sir?" Jonju asked.

"Getting there," Wonka replied, reaching under Table 10 for a number of flasks and bottles filled with strange liquids and glowing powders. "In answer to your earlier question," he said, mixing various ingredients in a large beaker, "the candies _are_ safe…at least I'm 90% certain they are. But safety is not the issue I am concerned with—it's the matter of disappearing that I'm worried about."

Jonju stared at him in shock. "The candies you were working on make you disappear?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Wonka said, setting up a Bunsen burner. "The disappearance is an unforeseen side effect of one of the primary ingredients: time crystals."

"Time crystals."

"Yes, mined from the deepest, darkest crevices of Earth, where the pressure is so great that it compresses the very essence of time into solid crystals. I discovered some on one of my very first visits to Minusland. I noticed some of the Minuses eating the crystals to become Plusses again. I wondered, of course, how the crystals tasted. Turns out, they add a whole new dimension to flavor that I cannot duplicate using anything else!

"If you tasted it, how come you didn't disappear?" Jonju asked. "Or did you , and then you found a way to reappear?"

Wonka took a minute to stir the contents of his beaker before replying. "A taste won't make you disappear, but more than a morsel could. I found that out when three of the test Oompa-Loompa tried some of the first candies. They just plum vanished—I thought they'd turned invisible, but it seems like they were whisked away somewhere without a trace."

"Like the Minuses?" Jonju said dryly.

"No need to be prim," Wonka retorted, setting the beaker on a tile plate to cool. "I got all the test-Loompas back from Minusland, didn't I? And it's a good thing I know how to get the ones who disappeared back, too."

"Care to explain?" Jonju said, knowing how much his employer liked to spout out the scientific nature of things.

"It's simple," Wonka said, producing two trays from beneath the table. The liquid in the beaker had cooled enough to become a thick treacle, and it separated into two layers that seemed to glow through the clear glass. Wonka carefully decanted the greenish top layer into one tray, and poured the bluish bottom layer into the other tray.

"If one candy can make someone disappear, then another candy should be able to make them reappear!"

"Like the Wonkavite and Vita-Wonk?" Jonju asked.

"Exactly," Wonka replied. He stet a timer, then went over to a cupboard along the nearest wall. Jonju followed him, still carrying the clipboard. Wonka pulled open one of the cabinets and took out a shiny purple jumpsuit, complete with matching goggles, gloves, and shoes. He pulled the suit over his clothes, though he took off his plum velvet jacket first. He continued to talk as he slipped the gloves on. "The candies in the boxes that were accidentally shipped were all of the green variety. I was studying them extensively because they made the testers disappear, but the blue variety didn't. What if it's because the green candies teleport you away, and the blue ones bring you back?"

Sounds reasonable," Jonju murmured, "but don't you dare try it on yourself."

Wonka stopped pulling on one of the gloves and flashed him a rebellious look.

"And why not?"

"What if it doesn't work?" Jonju said patiently. "What if you are stranded in limbo or something and get stuck along with the testers?"

Wonka furrowed his brow. "Don't you think it's a risk worth taking? So I can get the other Oompa-Loompas back? Your friends and coworkers?"

"As much as I love my people," Jonju said slowly, "I am more concerned with your wellbeing, sir. Ever since you entrusted me with your secrets and the security of your factory, I've come to realize that without you, my people and I would be nothing."

"I don't follow," Wonka said, though by the twitch in his neck, Jonju knew he did. "Think about it," he said, "You rescued my people from Loompaland. You gave us food, shelter, jobs. If you disappear, what will become of all that? What about Charlie? His family? They would all be lost without you."

Wonka sighed gustily. "Maybe you have a point, my friend, but you're forgetting something."

"Like what?"

"That I'm Willy Wonka," Wonka said, pulling his top hat firmly down on his head. Just then, the timer went off, and Wonka rushed over to the table where the two trays were sitting. Wonka touched the surface of the candy with a gloved finger, satisfied that it had hardened enough. He pulled a small spatula from somewhere and cut the candy, now the consistency of saltwater taffy, into little squares. He put the candies in two separate baggies, and put the baggies in a little satchel that he slung over his shoulder.

"I'll be back before you know it," he said to Jonju, who only shook his head.

"I hope so, sir."

Wonka took out one of the green candies and ate it, and after a couple uneventful seconds, he disappeared.


	2. Blast to the Past?

**Disclaimer** : Main characters all belong to Roald Dahl and affilitated corporations.

* * *

Willy Wonka had not known what to expect when he ate the green candy. He had experienced many things in his long life, but everything dulled in comparison to the flavor of the candy in his mouth. It was very nearly beyond his comprehension, but he imagined if taste had a direction, then he was experiencing all the directions at once, over and over again. And it was not just his sense of taste that was affected—his vision filled with bright swirls of light and color, blocking out the familiar sight of his inventing room and Jonju until the colors were all that he could see. And he thought he heard, though he couldn't be sure, the distant singing of an angelic choir, or maybe it was the whirring of a drill, or the singing of an exotic bird. Then all his senses became jumbled so that he couldn't tell what was smell or sound or taste—all that he could be sure of was the candy in his mouth, which was very nearly dissolved, and the feeling of the bag in his tightly clenched hands. Then, as the very last bit of the candy dissolved deliciously in his mouth, the swirling colors began to fade, the singing or drilling stopped, and the world began to fall into recognizable shapes around him. At first, he didn't know where he was. It looked like a cavernous space, lit by bright spotlights in the distant ceiling. There were curious banks of machines that glistened in the light, and they gave off gouts of steam and made strange beeping and hissing noises. One particular machine was spitting out round, marble-sized balls that fell into a vat of water and settled at the bottom. Wonka approached it, and for some reason an image of brightly colored candies rolling down a conveyor belt flashed through his mind. He stretched out a hand to take one, but he was startled by a voice from behind.

"Who are you?! And what are you doing in my Inventing Room?!"

Wonka turned around slowly, and everything began to make sense. The room, the machines, the latent thoughts of his Everlasting Gobstopper machine…because the man standing behind him was also wearing purple clothes and a top hat, thought he was wearing a trench coat rather than a jacket, and his hat was black instead of brown. His skin was also very pale, and his hair was straight instead of curly. He did not seem to understand what was going on. "Who are you?" he repeated, though the accusing tone in his voice faltered when he noticed Wonka's top hat.

"I am Willy Wonka," Wonka replied, tipping his top hat to the man. "And if I am not mistaken, so are you."

The other Wonka looked him over, smirking. "You sound old, and I don't look anything like you."

"I think we are from different times and realities," Wonka said, ignoring the rude remark. "Something must've happened in one of our realities that made us end up differently. Do the Oompa-Loompas still work in your factory?"

"Yeah…" the other Wonka said, relaxing a little. "Yeah, they do. They are rather mischievous…"

"Always making jokes," Wonka finished, breaking into a smile.

"Ya know," the other Wonka said, scratching his neck, "Maybe we should start over. Hello, my name is Willy Wonka. Welcome to my factory…and I've forgotten the rest of the speech. I really should make some notecards or something."

"Well," Wonka said, "My name is Willy Wonka, too. We should probably figure out what to call each other, so no one gets confused. Should I call you Will, or William?"

The other Wonka giggled. "No thanks…those sound way too old for me. Call me Willy."

"Very well, call me William, then."

With that settled, the two started walking through Willy's Inventing Room like old friends while Willy cheerfully explained what the different machines did. When they came to the Chewing Gum machine, William looked thoughtfully at the glistening mechanism. "Have you gotten the blueberry pie problem fixed yet?"

Willy frowned. "Er, no. I've tried it on like, twenty different Oompa-Loompas, and each one ended up as a blueberry. It's just weird." He stole a glance at the other Wonka. "Speaking of weird, how did you get here anyway?"

"Experimental candy," William replied. "I think it lets you travel through time and space when you eat it. I'm not sure how yet."

"Weird," Willy said. "Almost nonsense."

"A little nonsense now and then, is relished by the wisest men," William replied simply. "Anyway, I didn't know for sure what the candy did until I tried it for myself. I wanted to go wherever my test Oompa-Loompas went so I could bring them back home with the 'return' candy."

"Oh!" Willy snapped his fingers. "You must be talking about those weird orange guys that popped up in here a few days ago."

"They're not weird," William said defensively. "It's perfectly normal in their culture."

"Not here," Willy replied.

"Well, what do they look like in your reality?" William retorted.

Willy began walking toward the Glass Elevator, gesturing for William to follow. "You'd better see for yourself."

The Great Glass Elevator coasted smoothly through the enormous rooms in the factory, and William Wonka was struck by the subtle differences from his own. The lighting in the Chocolate Room, for instance, the Chocolate River Yacht, the design of Fudge Mountain, and particular, the use of real live squirrels in the Nut Rooms. But these were not as astonishing as the thing that Willy Wonka wanted to show him. The Elevator coasted into a room that had the span of many football fields, and held what looked like a miniaturized suburban neighborhood. There were little houses with little green lawns and white fences, and little streets with little cars parked in the driveways and parks with little playground equipment. And everywhere William looked, there were tiny people. Their hair and skin were dark brown, and the men all looked very similar, if not the same. But they were all the same height, which was no more than two feet tall, and the tiny children that ran through the lawns were smaller still.

"Oompa-Loompas," Willy said, his voice warm with pride.

"Maybe something caused a divergence in their evolution," William muttered, mostly to himself. "Radiation perhaps?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Willy said cheerfully. "Shall we go get your Oompa-Loompas now?"

William smiled wryly, but he nodded.

"Let's boogie on, then!" Willy cried, pushing a button. The Elevator shot off sideways, swerved, spiraled, and finally leveled out. It passed through a room full of explosions and gunfire, from Oompa-Loompas that were shooting at giant targets suspended at the other end of the room.

"Candy-Weapons Testing," Willy explained, "Because…why not?"

"Candy doesn't need a point," William agreed. "That's what makes it candy."

Eventually the Elevator descended into a smaller room that was mostly empty save for a stage at the far end, and a bunch of Oompa-Loompas gathered in front of it.

"What is this?" William asked as he stepped out of the Elevator.

Willy chuckled nervously. "Um," do you have karaoke in your reality? No? Well, the Oompa-Loompas here love it and…you'll see for yourself in a second here."

And so he did. The lights in the room dimmed except for one spotlight that lit up the stage. The crowd of Oompa-Loompas sheered as three orange-faced little men came out on stage. One held a microphone, one carried a guitar, and the third went over to a drum set that neither of the Wonkas had noticed before.

"Are you ready?!" The singer shouted into the microphone, and the crowd grew louder still. The guitarist and drummer began to play the opening riffs of "Bohemian Rhapsody", and the crowd went wild and joined in. Halfway through the chorus, Willy looked at William, who appeared bewildered.

"Sorry," he said, "This turned out to be more of a concert. Not at all what I was expecting. Normally they like to sing songs by Celine Dion or Johnny Cash."

William still looked uncomfortable, but he smiled gratefully. "It seems my Oompa-Loompas have enjoyed their stay here. Thank you for taking care of them. But I'm afraid it's time to go."

With this said, he walked forward so that he was at the edge of the crowd and the Oompa-loompas onstage noticed him, stopping in mid-verse.

"Mr. Wonka!" the singer shouted, jumping off the stage. The crowd didn't know what was going on, and thought it was part of the act. They caught him and crowdsurfed him to the back. The guitarist and drummer quickly followed, and in seconds the three orange Oompa-Loompas were standing in front of William Wonka.

"Mr. Wonka!" The singer said. "How did you get here?"

"More importantly," the guitarist said, "Did you make a way to get back? I don't mean to complain…it's been nice here, but I miss my friends back home."

"Yeah," the drummer added, "and being the only orange people in a crowd is giving me self-esteem issues."

"Of course I made a way back," William said with a smile. He reached into his bag and took out three of the blue return candies, handing one to each Oompa-Loompa. "Just eat that," he told them, "and you'll be sent home."

The Oompa-Loompas shared a nervous look, but they popped the candies into their mouths at the same time, and like before, vanished a moment after.

The crowd of Oompa-Loompas took no notice of this—in fact, a new band was already onstage, jamming their rendition of U2 songs. William went back to where Willy was still standing, watching.

"Thank you for your help," William said. He extended a hand, and for once Willy ignored his germaphobia and shook it, grinning.

"No problem. But if you're ever in town again, don't hesitate to visit."

"I would say the same to you," William said, "but I think you would find my world too surreal."

Willy giggled in his childish way, and William shared a chuckle with him before popping a blue candy into his mouth. "Goodbye," he said, or maybe mumbled since his mouth was full. Then there was only a jumble of colors and sounds and smells.


	3. Trouble Brewing

**Disclaimer** : Same as before.

* * *

The return trip was not as confusing as the first—William Wonka found that he could make out some shapes from the swirls this time and perceived (or maybe imagined) a twisting vortex that seemed to be going in every direction but, like a tunnel, also appeared to be drawing him forward toward a brilliant point of light at the end. The tunnel "walls" shifted and flashed with blue streaks of lighting or energy, and there were strange, wispy kind of orbs that seems to follow Wonka as he passed them by. Before he could give them much thought, he arrived at the end of the tunnel and it disappeared, and the world around him became tangible again. At first, he was confused. It took him a few moments to recognize the room he was in, because it certainly was not the Inventing Room, where his journey had begun. He was in a small room that had racks upon racks of cleaning supplies, custodial equipment, uniforms, buckets, and various chemicals. Then Wonka realized he must be standing in a janitorial closet, and that in the other reality it had been converted into a karaoke room…whatever that was.

"Our worlds must be parallel, but alternate," Wonka said to himself, looking for the way out of the closet. Finding it, he pushed the door open, much to the surprise of two janitor-Loompas who were standing on the other side.

"Mr. Wonka!" they cried in surprise. "What were you doing in there?"

"Um…just getting back from a trip," he replied. The two Oompa-Loompas shared a confused look, but didn't comment. Instead, one of them pulled out a newspaper from one of the large pockets in his white overalls. He handed it to Wonka. "If you just got back," he said, "then maybe you haven't heard the news."

"What news?" Wonka asked, flipping through the paper.

"The four other Ticket winners," the little man replied, "They've gone missing!"

Wonka was not surprised at the news, but he still felt a cold sensation forming in the pit of his stomach. Some people called it fear. He called it foreboding, but arguing about synonyms would have to wait. He handed the newspaper back to the Oompa-Loompa. "Do you know where Jonju is? And Charlie?"

"Master Bucket is presently breakfasting with his family," the second Oompa-Loompa said. "And last I heard, Jonju was in the Inventing Room, waiting for you actually."

"Thank you." Wonka rushed down the corridor, stopping at an intersection only long enough to get his bearings, then rushing off again. It was not long before he reached the Inventing Room, and he automatically reached for his ring of keys before remembering that he had set them down on a table inside the room before his little trip. He mumbled something to himself, possibly a curse, then went over the intercom next to the door. He pushed the button.

"Jonju, are you in there?"

The large door swung open almost immediately, showing Jonju just behind it. The little man looked exhausted with worry, but surprised as well. "Mr. Wonka? How did you get out there?"

"I have some theories about that, my friend," Wonka said, brushing past him into the room. He went past the Hair Toffee Workbench, past the Exploding Candy shelves, and past the Chewing Gum Machine. On the back wall, there was a large blackboard that had a number of equations and words scrawled across it. Wonka erased it all with one hand, wiping his hands together to dust them off before grabbing a piece of chalk. "Now," he said to Jonju, who had walked up behind him, "When you think of time, how do you imagine it?"

"Like a clock?" Jonju said tentatively.

Wonka chuckled. "I suppose that's what most people would associate with it, yes. But I'm talking about the big picture—the past, present, and future. Almost everyone, you see, perceives time as a straight line…or even as a plane that is extradimensional to this one." He illustrated on the board, pausing on occasion to erase something when it didn't look right.

"When I ate the Time candy…that's what I'm calling it now…I believe it opened an interdimensional corridor into an alternate reality. I cannot be certain about the time period in which I came out, but I think I met a younger version of myself. It would also seem that time spent there passes at the same speed as time here."

"That has to be the most I've ever heard someone use the word 'time' in an explanation," Jonju remarked.

Wonka grinned unabashedly. "Too true, my friend. But there is no other word to express it." He stepped away from the board to look at his drawings as a whole. "What if," he said, erasing a line he had drawn to represent the time tunnel, "Time is not a linear measurement, but actually a big ball of wibbly…wobbly…stuff?" He attempted to do a rough sketch of the swirling vortex he had seen, but his art skills could not do it justice.

"I guess…it's possible?" Jonju said, shrugging. "But what would it matter?"

"Because it means that events can be revisited and rewritten, or even overwritten," Wonka murmured. He frowned. "Think about it—if time is not straight, but more of a curve, it can loop back on itself and cause a paradox. I'm not entirely sure what that means, or what it would do, but it doesn't sound good in any case."

"Do you think the disappearing Ticket finders could cause that kind of…paradox?" Jonju asked.

"I don't know," Wonka said grimly, "But I intend to get them back before we find out.


	4. Quadruple Trouble

**Disclaimer** : (in case you skipped over the other chapters) main characters are the creative property of Roald Dahl and whoever bought rights to them.

* * *

What had happened was this: Augustus Gloop, who had been made curiously thin by being sucked up a glass pipe at Wonka's factory, was miserable. In the year following his misadventure at the factory, his parents decided that his eating habits were destructive and put him on a strict diet. This morning, he had been allowed to eat porridge with one spoonful of sugar and a banana, but now as he sat miserably on the front porch of his house, his stomach growled in protest. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't as if he could do anything about it…his parents had put locks on the pantry and cupboards and refrigerator so he could not cheat on his diet. Then, as if in response to his protesting tummy, a large truck appeared on the street and drove up the driveway to Augustus's house. Augustus' eyes bulged out of his head in amazement as the truck parked and two muscular men got out to unload the cargo. Augustus knew from the curly W's printed on the boxes that they contained candy. _Candy_! He smiled in greed. His parents were not home—his father was working at the butcher shop, and his mother was out playing bingo. His babysitter was asleep on the couch in front of the television, so Augustus knew he had an opportunity that he would not have again. He waved to the men and opened the garage for them, gesturing to a place where they could stack the boxes. It took several minutes before they had unloaded everything, and by the time they were done and said goodbye, Augustus was sweating from the sheer effort of containing himself. Finally the men drove away, and Augustus sprang into action. He closed the garage and, now alone with mounds of candy, he tore frantically into the nearest box. There were regular milk chocolate Wonka bars inside, and Augustus nearly squealed in delight. He lost any control he had left. He tore open one bar after another, devouring them in large, wolfish bites. When that box was more or less demolished, he tore open another, and another. And even though he was feeling quite full by the fourth box, he couldn't stop himself now. He ripped off the lid, not bothered in the slightest by the green, glowing candy that greeted him. He grabbed on in his greedy fist, ate it, and disappeared.

Veruca Salt was the second one to receive her candy supply, though her cause of misery was different than that of Augustus. Ever since the trip to factory, Veruca's father had been stricter with her. He didn't give her everything she wanted anymore. Even the tricks she had used before did not work—no matter how much she screamed, cried, or pouted…he would not budge. It was like trying to get candy from a rock, except that rock could send her to her room and demand that she use _manners_. Indeed, Veruca's life had not been the same since that fateful tour, and she was very bitter about it. Not at falling down the Bad Egg shaft, not at the Oompa-Loompas, who had sung mean things about her. Not even at Willy Wonka, who had probably staged the whole thing to embarrass her. If anything, she was mad at her father for letting it all happen. She was mad at him for changing so much after the trip. For not letting her have anything she asked for, and for not calling her his "princess" anymore. So, more often than not, Veruca sulked. It was a childish thing to do at her age, but she didn't care. She sulked at home. At school. Even at the store, where she would gaze longingly at the expensive things her father would no longer buy for her. Today she decided to change things up a bit and be sulky outside. So she was outside on the expansive front lawn of the manor where she lived. The sun was shining and the grass was green, and one of her many puppies was running in circles trying to get her attention, but she ignored everything. She even growled at the puppy, and the poor thing ran back to the house in fright. Now alone, Veruca started picking flowers to amuse herself. Then she plucked the petals and leaves off them until they were barren stalks that she threw away with a spiteful grin.

"Daddy can't be like this forever," she declared to herself. "I'll be thirteen soon, and he'll have to listen to my demands then. It would be bad for my adolescent development if he didn't." Her self-assurance cooled her temper for a moment, and she looked over at the cobblestone driveway leading to the manor. There was some kind of delivery truck making its way toward the house. Perhaps her father had ordered something.

A devious grin curled Veruca's lips. "Whatever it is," she whispered, "I should take it and hide it. That'll teach Daddy to not be so cruel."

She ran to the driveway, stopping to watch as two men in grey uniforms got out. One went to the door and raised his hand to knock, but Veruca stopped him by shouting. "Hey! What are you doing!?"

The man turned around to look at her, smiling. "Hello little girl. We're here to deliver your first shipment of Wonka candies. Is your mum or dad home?"

"Um, no," Veruca lied. In fact, her parents were on the back veranda, hosting a small party in honor of Mr. Salt's company's thirtieth anniversary. But the delivery man seemed to believe her.

"Well then…Veruca, is it? Do you know where we can put all these boxes of candy?"

Veruca grinned sweetly. "Follow me!"

She led them into the house and showed them the kitchen pantry, and they began unloading as many boxes as they could fit in there. When there was no more room in the pantry, they piled the boxes beside the pantry door. They finished in minutes, bid Veruca goodbye, and then were gone. Veruca was now alone with the candy, and she got a brilliant idea to get even with her father. Recently, her father had made a rule that she could not have sweets without permission—she had to ask either her mother or father first, and there was definitely no sweet-eating before meals. So she decided that she would break the rules and eat as many of these Wonka candies as she could. _Take that, Daddy_ , she thought spitefully as she ripped open the first box. There were chocolate covered malts inside, and she daintily plucked one from the box and ate it. She found it was tasty, but she wanted to see what was in the other boxes. She tore open three in quick succession, eating one candy from each box. By now, her hands and mouth were quite sticky, but she didn't mind. She tore open the fifth box and was taken aback by the glowing green candies found inside. Common sense told her not to eat it, that it was probably poisonous or radioactive, but her sulky side said otherwise.

"I'm going to eat it even if it poisons me," Veruca vowed, snatching one of the candies out of the box. "If I die, it serves Daddy right. He'll feel terrible and wish he'd done everything I asked. Ha!" she tossed the candy into her mouth, her eyes widening in shock as her vision filled with swirling colors, and she disappeared.

Violet Beauregarde's live had been drastically changed as well. Following her misadventure at Wonka's factory, she struggled to live a "normal" life. Because of the de-juicing process, she was shockingly thin, and her hair and skin and eyes were all a strange, bluish-purple color. The color of a blueberry. For the first month after her transformation, she refused to go to school. She also stopped chewing gum, though sometimes she would catch herself making chewing movements even if there was nothing in her mouth. Old habits do die hard. In the second month, her parents urged her to go to school, or at least get out of the house, so she tried all sorts of ways to hide her strange color. Finally she succeeded in creating a wardrobe that would let her go out in broad daylight, and attract minimal stares. She wore long pants, long-sleeved shirts, and gloves. She applied heavy layers of makeup that made her face look almost normal. And she discovered that, by bleaching her hair, it took on a silver, almost platinum-blond color. This was all very good in the winter, when the long clothes and thick makeup provided insulation against the cold, but in the summer it was pure torture. There were days she thought she would melt underneath it all, and her makeup would run, and the people who saw her would laugh at her ridiculous color. Today was one such day. School was out for the summer, so when would not have to worry about sitting in class. But she had decided to walk down to the corner market to buy some ice cream, since her parents were away at work, and even if they were home they would have told her to walk there anyway. By the time she had gotten to the market, she was sweating, and her makeup felt a little greasy. She bought her ice cream, ignoring the cashier's curious stare.

"Aren't you hot in all that?" he asked.

"It's fine," Violet said quickly, leaving the store before he could comment any further. She walked home, ignoring all the people who passed her by in their shorts and t-shirts and tank tops. They're so lucky, Violet thought enviously, eating her ice cream carefully so that it would not smear the makeup around her mouth. When she rounded the corner, she caught sight of a delivery truck coming down the street. When it backed up in front of her house, she quickened her pace. Did mom order something? She wondered. She arrived in time to see two men in green uniforms get out of the truck. One held a clipboard. He noticed Violet and smiled.

"Hello! Are you Violet Beauregarde?"

"Um, y-yes," she said uncertainly.

"Well, we're here to deliver your candy."

"Candy?" Violet echoed, almost dropping her ice cream at the word. It reminded her of gum. And gum reminded her of…best not think about it.

"I don't think we worded any," she said weakly.

"It's a gift," the clipboard man said cheerfully as the other man opened up the back of the truck. "All this came directly from the factory of Willy Wonka."

Violet frowned. Another thing she didn't want to hear again: Wonka. Even though he had warned her not to eat the experimental gum, she still blamed him for her turning into a giant human blueberry. She knew, deep down inside, that it was her fault, but she didn't want to admit it.

"You should probably take it all back," Violet said, "And bring something else. You know, like a gift exchange."

"Sorry, kid," the clipboard man said. "But we were instructed to deliver this candy here, and orders are orders. Just show us where we can drop it off. You don't have to eat it, but we can't take it back."

"Besides," the other man added, "It's Wonka candies! The best in the world! How can you not want to eat them?" He shared a chuckle with the clipboard man.

Violet finally sighed. "Okay, Mister. You can bring it all on the patio over here." She showed them a shaded area by the front door.  
"The chocolate will melt in this heat," the clipboard man noted.

Violet hissed to herself in impatience, but she pulled out a key and opened the front door.

"You can put it in here, by the front door. Then my parents will see it when they come home."

After that was settled, the delivery men moved all the boxes from the truck into the house. What didn't fit in the entryway, they put on the patio, though they made sure none of it was the chocolate. They said goodbye to Violet, who let out a sigh of relief when they finally left—her makeup was starting to drip down her neck. She went inside to get cleaned up, gladly taking off the makeup and exchanging her long clothes for a t-shirt and shorts. Out of curiosity, she stared opening up the boxes of candy that were stacked in the entryway. There were gumdrops and lollipops and all manners of licorice. Of course there was chocolate, of all different shades and fillings. Then there was one box that held a strange kind of glowing candy. It was greenish and reminded Violet of glow-in-the-dark stars, except it was candy and it shined even in the light. On impulse, Violet took one out of the box, her jaw twitching as if her chewing muscles were begging for exercise. _Whatever happens_ , she thought, _it can't be any worse than what I've already been through_. She placed the candy in her mouth, chewed for a couple seconds, and vanished.

The most stunning transformation, perhaps, had been that of Mike Teavee. During the tour of Wonka's factory, he had been shrunk as small as a mouse, then stretched so that he was about ten feet tall and as thin as a wire. It shouldn't have been humanly possible, but some magic from the factory allowed it to be so. Reporters had definitely ben after him since he walked out of the factory gates with his mother, and as much as Mike loved television and the idea of being on t.v, there came a point when he actually got sick of the whole thing and gave up television altogether. He had not liked the prospect of being as thin as a wire for the rest of his life, but Mr. Wonka had promised to send him a special vitamin candy to help him fatten up a bit. Now, a year later, he was still ten feet tall, but he was considerably thicker than a wire. In fact, he looked quite normal, if it was normal for a ten year old boy to be ten feet tall. He was still adjusting to normal life though—at home he had to duck to get through the doors, and when he was inside the house he had to hunch over so that his head didn't scrape the ceiling. His mother wanted to move to a new house with higher ceilings to accommodate him, but his dad, who was the sensible type, pointed out that since they were both high school teachers they didn't make enough money to afford a new house. So Mike had no choice but to keep hunching in the house, and when it came time for bed, he had to curl up with his knees to his chest so that he would fit in his twin size bed. He had to do the same thing in the car, and riding the school bus was out of the question. There was a perk to his new height, though—his classmates had teased him when he was flat, but now that he was normal in thickness, many of them were actually jealous. He was the only kid in his school who could make slam dunks in basketball, and girls always asked him to get their Frisbees or kites out of the trees. So really things were looking up for Mike Teavee—he had friends, he was doing well in school, and since he gave up television he became interested in doing things that normal ten-year-old boys ought to be doing. Still…there were days he wished he could just be normal-sized again. He felt out of place, a freak. He was very sorry for how he had behaved in Wonka's factory, and he longed for a way to make things go back to the way they were—but without the television, of course.

He was outside dribbling a basketball when he noticed a delivery truck coming down the road toward him. He went onto the sidewalk to wait until it passed, but it pulled up along the curb, and two men in green uniforms got out. One of them held a clipboard, and he paused to look up at Mike in amazement.

"You must be Mike Teavee," he said.

"Yup," Mike replied simply. His voice was different than it used to be, deeper and kind of hollow. The doctor said it was from the stretching, and Mike could only live with it. The clipboard man smiled.

"We have a shipment of Wonka candies for you and your family. Can you show us where to put it?"

"Sure," Mike said casually. Unlike the other three children, Mike had come to appreciate Wonka candies. He used to hate chocolate, but the vitamins Wonka had given him were chocolate flavored and after a month or two of eating one a day, he started liking it. He tried all the different Wonka candies, and found out that he enjoyed each one. He didn't gorge himself on them, like Augustus would, so when the delivery men had moved all the boxes of candy into the garage and left, Mike calmly looked into the boxes to see what was in them. He still had some of the vitamins, so he was pretty sure Mr. Wonka would not have sent more until the next month. He was pleasantly surprised to find packages of Nerds and Taffy and chocolate-covered malts. There were wriggling gummies and fruity Lollies, and best of all, an Everlasting Gobstopper with a special note from Wonka, who apologized again for Mike's condition and said he was still looking for a way to fix him and Violet Beauregarde. Even though Mike had written an apology letter months ago, he hadn't expected a reply. He was beginning to see that Mr. Wonka was not as mean as he had thought on the tour, and was actually a very nice and considerate person if you were nice to him in return. Mike took the Everlasting Gobstopper and the note and set them on the shelf where the television set used to be. Then he noticed a smaller box that he had overlooked and opened it up in curiosity. There was a weird, glowing candy inside that Mike didn't recognize from any of the candy shops. He wondered if it might've been sent by mistake, but his curiosity was greater than his uncertainty. _Mr. Wonka wouldn't have sent us anything harmful_ , he reasoned to himself. He took one of the candies and ate it, so amazed by the flavor that he laughed before he vanished.


	5. Jumping Back In

**Disclaimer** _:_ SEE previous chapters

* * *

 _William Wonka's Factory,  
_ Administrative Offices

"There's no time to lose," Wonka was saying as he paced in front of a large desk, where an orange-faced Oompa-Loompa was furiously pounding on a typewriter.

"I'm writing as quickly as I can, sir," the Oompa-Loompa said, pausing only to advance the paper. Jonju came into the room and handed Wonka the satchel containing the Time Candy, though he didn't look too happy about it.

"How are you so sure that you'll be able to find the missing children, Mr. Wonka? According to the reports, they disappeared right out of their homes. And the Teavees were _not_ happy, especially when they found your note…"

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I'm a little deaf in this ear and you'll have to speak louder."

"I SAID—"

"Good heavens, Jonju, don't cut me off like that. I was going to explain that when I…jumped…between realities, I started in the Inventing Room, and ended up in the Inventing Room. So did the test-Loompas. So I'm thinking that the four missing children jumped to the alternate reality and ended up in the homes of their alternate selves. Which is why I am getting their addresses."

Just then, the typing Oompa-Loompa finished and handed the sheet to Wonka, who held it up with a smile.

"I'll simply jump over to the other reality, go to the homes of the children, and send them back to _this_ reality. Easy as pie."

"Not blueberry pie, I hope," Jonju muttered.

Wonka caught his meaning, but he managed to force a grin. "I'll be back in a jiffy. But in case I'm not…"

"I will make sure Master Bucket and his family are kept occupied," Jonju said. "I'm sure they'd like to see Fudge Mountain and spend some time in the Cocoa Beach Room. If they ask about where you are, I will simply say that you were called away on urgent business."

"Thank you my friend," Wonka sighed. "I'll try to return to this very spot, but keep an eye out for me elsewhere."

"Of course, sir."

Smiling at Jonju one last time, Wonka took one of the green candies out of the satchel and ate it, his vision dissolving in colors. He saw the swirls and streaks of flashing light, heard the angels or whirring or singing. Like last time, he also noticed the tunnel stretching ahead and in every direction, but this time he became fully aware of the wispy orbs that seemed to be traveling around and alongside him. They were the color of a sunset sky, shifting hues from bright orange to deep red and blackish-blue. They varied in size, the smallest of them were roughly the size of Wonka's fist, and the largest were the size of bowling balls. Though he did not turn his head to look around, Wonka realized there were more of these orbs traveling through the time tunnel. It was like he could feel them, though he couldn't explain how. _What are these things?_ He wondered, reaching out a hand to touch one. But before he could make contact, he arrived at the end of the tunnel, and it faded away. Wonka shook his head to clear it. He looked around to orient himself, mouth dropping open at what he saw.

He was standing on a platform, one of many, that was suspended along the walls of a cavernous space. It seemed like the drop went down forever, disappearing into darkness. There were desks on each of the platforms and computers—though he didn't know what those were—and a dark-skinned Oompa-Loompa sat typing and answering telephones at each one.

"Er-hem," a voice said behind him, and Wonka turned around to see a lady Oompa-Loompa looking at him over her desk. If she had been surprised by the abrupt appearance of a man from thin air, she didn't show it.

"I'm terribly sorry for, uh, dropping in like this," Wonka said, "I'm looking for the Administration offices."

"You've found it," the lady-Loompa said flatly, looking down to sign a form.

"I see. Well maybe you could help me find Willy Wonka? I need his help."

The lady-Loompa pointed behind her without looking up from the form. "Take the Elevator. Chocolate Room. You'll find him there."

"Thanks," Wonka mumbled, walking past her to a door. He opened it and found a short corridor that led out into a larger hall. And there, at the end of it, he saw a sign that read "Glass Elevator". He pressed the button for it, startled when the doors slid open and Willy Wonka himself came out.

"Oh, hello!" he said. "I knew you'd be back eventually. What's up?"

William Wonka was not familiar with the expression, so he got straight to the point. "I need your help." He pulled out the list of addressed and handed them to Willy. "I need to get to these places right away. The very fabric of time and space may depend on it!"

Huh," Willy murmured as he scanned the list. "These look familiar. Very familiar. These are where four of the kids who just found my Golden Tickets live!" He raised a brow. "Just what exactly are you going to do over there, huh?"

"I was…wait, you haven't done the Tour yet?"

Willy giggled. "'Course not. It's a couple days from now." He paused to glance at the pocket watch he kept in his jacket pocket. "In fact, it's _exactly_ a couple days from now. Are _you_ saying you've had your contest already?"

William almost lied, but there he didn't see the point. "Yes, I have. It's actually the whole reason I came here in the first place. After the Tour, you see, the Ticket winners got a bunch of candy delivered to them. Somehow my experimental candy got mixed up with a shipment, and the kids ate the candy before I could stop them. So they must've ended up here somewhere."

"I don't see the name of—who was it—Charlie Bucket on here," Willy said thoughtfully. "Does that mean he wins?"

"You mustn't tell him at the beginning," William whispered quickly. "You must pretend that you don't know who will win and go through the whole tour. I'm new to time travel, but I'm pretty sure there are some kind of physical laws we cannot break. Promise me you won't tell him. Or any of them."

Normally Willy would have smirked, but for once he looked quite serious. "I promise."

"Good. Now, can you help me get to these places? I need to bring the children from my reality back to where they belong before they can interact with their alternate selves."

"I can do better than that!" Willy said cheerfully, ushering William into the Glass Elevator. He pressed one of the buttons, and the Elevator was whisked away.


	6. Doppelganger Danger

**Disclaimer** : Insert here.

* * *

Unfortunately for William Wonka, the children had already been interacting with their alternate selves…if overeating and bickering could be called interacting. Augustus Gloop, who had arrived first, appeared in the house of his alternate self, whose parents were also away at work, and whose babysitter happened to be a blind, old lady who was currently listening to the radio. When Augustus met his alter, both boys looked each other over in a mix of confusion and distrust.

"Am I standing in front of a mirror? Augustus wondered aloud.

"It must be a broken mirror," Alter Augustus replied. Then Augustus's stomach rumbled, and Alter Augustus, who could identify with the sound, smiled. "Would you like come candy?"

"Sure," Augustus said, perking up. Already all the food he had eaten was digested, and he was feeling hungry again.

"Then you should have brought some," Alter Augustus said nastily. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out pies and cakes and potatoes that he immediately began stuffing his face with. Augustus ignored the stinging remark and joined his alternate. When the foods in the fridge were depleted, they raided the pantry, taking out candies and cookies and all sorts of fattening foods. One could say a bond had formed between these two boys, who worked together to open sealed jars and reach high places where goodies were hidden. Yes, the Gloops had become fast friends. The same could not be said for the other three children.

Veruca Salt appeared in a mansion that was exactly the same as hers. The parents were also gone, perhaps celebrating the alternate anniversary of the alternate Mr. Salt's alternate Nut factory. In any case, Veruca thought that the whole swirling colors episode from eating the candy had been her imagination. That is, until she decided to go up to her room. She opened the door, her mouth dropping open in surprise and fury to see a little girl sitting on her bed, nestled in piles of ermine and mink furs.

"What are you doing in _my_ room?" Veruca snarled. The little girl, who was in fact Alter Veruca, gave her a smile…that quickly hardened into a scowl.

"I could say the same to you," she said, unmoved. "I don't know who you are, but you look ugly in that dress. Now go away, before I call the police."

Veruca turned red in the face, ready to fly into a tantrum. Then she noticed picture frames sitting on the gold-gilded dresser. They once held pictures of her, but now they held pictures of this girl…whoever she was.

"Who are you?" Veruca demanded, forcing her temper down.

"Veruca Salt," the little girl replied primly. "And I _thought_ I told you to go away."

"But I'm Veruca Salt," Veruca said. "I ate some candy from Mr. Wonka, and…"

The younger Veruca perked up at the name of Wonka.

"You mean the candy maker? The guy who made these?" She held up a gold sheet hammered to the thinness of paper.

"The Ticket!" Veruca said in surprise.

"My Daddy got it for me," Alter Veruca sneered. "He does whatever I want. In a couple days we're going to see Wonka's factory."

"You shouldn't do!" Veruca said suddenly. "Bad things will happen to you!"

Alter Veruca laughed coldly. "You can't tell me what to do! I can do whatever I want. And I _want_ you to leave!"

"Where will I go?" Veruca snapped, feeling her temper return.

"I don't care," Alter Veruca retorted. "No go away."

Veruca lost her temper at that moment. She screamed in rage and flew at the dresser, knocking everything off onto the floor. Alter Veruca shrieked in fury and alarm. "Stop it! I want you to stop!"

But Veruca didn't stop. She rushed over to the closet and pulled out mink coats and shiny dresses and silken scarves, throwing everything onto the floor. Then she went to the nearest bookshelf and swept all the contents of each shelf off and onto the ground with a clatter and shatter. When the room was quite upturned and the floor littered with things, Veruca's temper subsided to a cool smolder. She turned to Alter Veruca, grinning viciously. The other girl looked shocked speechless, but after a moment she smiled. It was quite the opposite response Veruca had expected.

"That was amazing!" Alter Veruca said as she grinned. "Do you do that every time you don't get what you want?"

"Most of the time it works," Veruca said smoothly. "Don't you?"

Alter Veruca shook her head. "Daddy usually does what I want. But lately he's been getting on my nerves. Maybe I should learn something new in case he needs some…convincing."

"I can teach you, Veruca offered, smiling for the first time since she arrived. Alter Veruca smiled back.

"I _want_ you to."

Violet Beauregarde's experience was a bit more interesting. As soon as she ate the Time Candy, her jaws made quick work of it. She was immersed in colors and swirls that distantly reminded her of that weird tunnel in Wonka's factory—but before she had a chance to reflect on it, the candy was dissolved and the colors disappeared. Immediately she noticed two things—one, she was standing in a house _like_ her own, but there were trophies everywhere, on shelves, mounted on walls, nested in class cases. Two, by some miracle, her skin and hair had changed. She was no longer the color of a blueberry—she was normal again! Tears came to hear eyes as she realized this. She wanted to shout for joy, but before she could, she was knocked down from behind. She fell to the ground with a squeal of surprise.

"Who are you?" an unfamiliar voice demanded.

"I…I'm Violet Beauregarde," Violet stuttered.

"No, you're not." The voice said. " _I_ am."

Violet felt her stomach twisting into a knot as she turned over to see who was standing over her. There was, to her surprise, a girl about her own age. She was wearing a karate outfit with a black belt, and she was chewing ferociously on a piece of bubble gum.

"I've never seen you before," Violet said, trying to be brave.

"How could you not have?" Alter Violet scoffed. "I'm the most famous girl in America. I'm a champion kickboxer, cheerleader, track runner, black belt, and the junior world champion gum chewer. This piece of gum I'm chewing right at this moment, I've been working on for three months solid."

"Big deal," Violet snorted. I used to chew gum longer than that. Before I gave it up, I chewed on one piece for four months. Now that's a record."

Alter Violet scowled. "If you give up, it doesn't count."

"Says who? Violet shot back, jumping to her feet. "It broke the record held by my best friend, Cornelia Prinzmetal, and she still hasn't broken it. A record is a record."

Alter Violet looked ready to judo chop Violet in the throat, but she restrained herself. A curious look came to her face. "You…you have friends?" she asked.

"Well, I used to," Violet replied. "Back before the accident in…I don't really want to talk about that. But yeah, I had friends. Why?"

Alter Violet looked uncomfortable. "I'm really famous and all, so I have lots of fans. Then there's my mom and dad. But fans aren't really friends, and my parents are gone on business all the time, so I don't really have anyone to talk to…"

"We can be friends," Violet said, offering a hand.

Alter Violet shook it. "Best friends."

When Mike Teavee had eaten the candy, he cried out in amazement as his vision filled with colors and his taste buds were treated to extradimensional flavor. Mr. Wonka has outdone himself this time, he thought. Then he noticed something happening as he continued to chew—he was being pulled or pushed through a tunnel of swirling colors and these balls of colorful, wispy vapor surrounded him. They covered his arms and legs and body, and then he felt very strange. His legs and arms seemed to shrink, and his body became shorter, like the weird orbs were making right out of what had gone wrong. As the end of the tunnel grew nearer, the orbs dropped off of him one by one, until there was only one smaller one left clinging to the palm of his hand. Mike didn't know why, but he felt like the thing was alive. "Thank you," he said to it. He didn't know if it could understand him, but it waited a moment before dropping off to disappear into the time tunnel. By now, the candy in Mike's mouth was gone, and the swirling colors disappeared. He found himself standing in his house…but to his horror, the television was back in its spot, and it was bigger than he remembered. In fact, there was a lot of stuff he didn't remember—a black box with cables and some weird, plastic thing with buttons coming off it, a leather couch instead of the old velvet one. And worst of all, his bookshelf, which had held all the novels and comics he had bought after the television was sold was gone, and in its place was a cabinet full of video cassettes and sleek plastic cases. _What's going on?_ Mike wondered to himself. He suspected it had something to do with the candy, but Mr. Wonka wouldn't have meant for _bad_ things to happen from eating it…right? Mike was about to walk through the house to see what else had changed, but he froze when he heard a voice behind him.

"Stop right there. I've got a gun. Put your hands in the air and turn around so I can see you."

Mike struggled to remain calm as he complied, turning slowly to see a boy about his own age, brandishing what looked like a submachine gun. Well, it would have, except for the bright orange cap on the muzzle.

"What's your name, trespasser? How'd you get in here?"

Mike wondered if he should lie, but somehow he imagined it would only make things worse.

"I'm Mike Teavee. I'm not really sure how I got here."

"You're lying!" the other boy shouted angrily. "I'm Mike Teavee! You're probably some impersonator trying to steal my Golden Ticket. _I_ found it. _ME_!

Mike tried to understand what was happening. "You just found the Ticket? Like, recently?"

"It wasn't hard," Alter Mike said scornfully. "A retard could have figured it out."

"But…you haven't gone on the Tour yet?" Mike pressed.

"You ask an awful lot of questions for a trespasser," Alter Mike growled. "I should call the cops and tell them you were trying to steal my Ticket."

"I don't want anything to do with your Ticket," Mike said calmly. "In fact, I want you to take it and have fun at Mr. Wonka's factory. Just don't cause any trouble, you k now?"

"What do you mean?" Alter Mike said with a scowl. "I'm not stupid."

"I didn't mean—"Mike started to say, but whatever he was saying died in his throat as Alter Mike punched him square in the face. Mike's vision filled with stars, and his nose felt wet and sticky. He tried to blink away the stars so he could see the other Mike to hit him back, but the tars weren't clearing. And Alter Mike could see them, too.

"Hey, what's going on?" Alter Mike snapped. He made a grab for Mike's shirt collar, but it was like he was moving through molasses. Mike was able to push away from him long before Alter Mike's hand came close. The stars were everywhere, bright little pinpricks of light that could best be described as whitish sparks that didn't fizzle out. They seemed to be floating in the air, and whenever Mike touched one, it sent tiny flashes of pain shooting through his skin. He didn't like that at all. He ran or walked or floated to the other end of the room, dodging as many of the sparks as he could. Alter Mike made no move to follow. Apparently he was being hurt by the sparks as well, and didn't want to get any closer to them. When Mike was on the other side of the room, the air seemed to clear. It was like stepping out of the water onto dry land, except he wasn't holding his breath and he wasn't wet. The sparks also disappeared, but there seemed to be a distant crackling noise coming from nowhere.

"What was that?" Mike said aloud, more out of curiosity than anything else.

" _Obviously_ it was a reaction," Alter Mike said arrogantly. "Anyone could see that. When I hit you, all that stuff happened. Ergo, you're an alien from another galaxy or some weird escaped experiment, or I've suddenly developed super powers."

Mike wanted to ask how many hours a day this kid spent in the real world, but maybe Alter Mike's alien theory wasn't so far off from the truth. Of course, Mike wasn't an alien, but maybe he was from another galaxy, or universe. An alternate universe! It all made sense now—the swirling vortex of colors, the house that was his, but wasn't his, and this…weird little boy with anger issues. _Mr. Wonka's candy must've done this,_ Mike concluded _. Maybe to show me what I used to be like before I changed._ He frowned in thought _. I wonder if the other three Ticket winners got the same candy, too. They'll probably learn a lot._ Then, _I hope Mr. Wonka made a way for us to get back._


	7. Righting Wrongs

**Disclaimer** : You should know by now!

* * *

Back at Willy Wonka's factory, the Great Glass Elevator slid smoothly to a stop, opening into a large room much like a warehouse. Willy stepped out first, leading William to a desk sitting before the first of many rows of shelves. There was an Oompa-Loompa sitting at the desk—a tiny man this time—and he was wearing a uniform that reminded William of military fatigues…but in purple. He stood up and saluted to Willy. "Hello, sir. How can I be of service?"

"I need your assistance," Willy said, his voice unusually serious. "My friend here, um, William, needs a few of your best agents to help him accomplish his mission. He will be going by Elevator, but I trust you will supply him with everything else he needs."

"Yes, sir," the tiny man replied. He dashed off, disappearing behind the shelves, but he was back in a minute. There were four other Oompa-Loompas with him. They were all wearing black uniforms and trench coats, and each one was carrying a small briefcase.

"My best agents," the Oompa-Loompa in fatigues said proudly. "Jasku, Ganja, Kalgo, and Lonki. Whatever your mission is, they will be sure to see it through."

"Thank you," William said uncertainly. He wasn't really sure how the little men could help him, but he was glad for the company anyway. "We'd best be off, then."

"Good luck!" Willy said cheerfully, waving as William and the Oompa-Loompas boarded the Elevator. William gave him one last look, then pushed the button labeled UP AND OUT. The Elevator rocketed upwards, as he knew it would, and before long the Elevator burst through the roof of the factory and shot blazing into the sky.

One of the Oompa-Loompa agents—Jasku, the Loompa in fatigues had called him, looked over William's list of addresses as the Elevator hovered above the clouds. "Is there any particular order in which you want to visit these places?" he asked.

"Whatever is fastest, I suppose," William replied.

"Then we should go to the London address, then the German one, then finish up with the two American ones." The tiny man went over to one side of the Elevator and pried open what William had thought was a decorative panel.

"Flight controls," Jasku explained. "We don't usually need them in the Factory." He pressed a few buttons in quick succession, and the Elevator shot sideways into the cloud bank. It was not long before it began to descend, and it eventually landed on a large, grassy lawn before a marvelous mansion. The door opened with a ding, and William stepped out, flanked by the four Oompa-Loompas.

"If you don't mind me asking," The Oompa-Loompa called Lonki said, "What is your mission, sir?"

"It's a bit complicated," William replied, "but there _may_ be two girls and there _may_ be fighting, and I _may_ need your help in, uh, immobilizing them."

The Oompa-Loompas shared a devious grin.

"We are ready whenever you need us," Jasku said.

William nodded and led them toward the mansion. When they were near the front door, it was clear that something was terribly wrong. There was someone screaming inside, things clattering and crashing, and another voice that William recognized, sobbing. William tried the door and found it unlocked. He pushed it open, startled by the sight that lay before him. The house, once pristine, was in disarray. Things that had been on shelves were now scattered on the floor—some broken—and cushions were off the couches and strewn about, and curtains were tattered and hanging precariously from bent rods. A little girl, who William assumed was the Alternate Veruca, was throwing quite a tantrum that had overwhelmed an older girl who William was shocked to recognize as the Veruca from his world. She appeared quite different than when she had thrown a tantrum in the victory—she was crying real tears now, and looked positively miserable. "Stop it, please," she was crying, but it seemed she had taught Alter Veruca too well."

"Get the little one," William said to the Oompa-Loompas. "I'll handle the other one."

The Oompa-Loompas nodded. Wonka watched as two of them set down their briefcases and tackled Alter Veruca, who screamed in terror at the sight of the tiny men. She was down in an instant, kicking and bawling, but with no effect.

"What should we do with her?" The other two Loompas asked.

"She needs to forget today ever happened," William said quietly. "But please don't hurt her to do it."

"We have just the thing," the Loompa called Ganja said cheerfully. He opened his briefcase and produced a bottle full of little round things that looked like pills.

"Drugs?" William said, horrified.

"Candy," Ganja corrected. "Our boss calls them Forget-Me-Knots. Makes you forget the whole day when you eat one."

"Very well," William said, and the little man went over to where Alter Veruca was struggling on the ground. He popped the candy into her open mouth, but she refused to swallow it. He jabbed her in the throat to make her gasp involuntarily, and the candy went down. In moments she stopped struggling and her eyelids became droopy, and she slurred her demands before passing out entirely. The Oompa-Loompas laid her on the carpet and returned to William, who nodded approvingly at them before walking over to Veruca. She was sitting in the corner, her face buried in her hands and oblivious to everything that had just happened. William knelt beside her.

"Hello, Veruca," he said gently. She stopped in mid-sob and looked up at him in surprise.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to bring you home. Are you ready?"

Veruca swallowed hard and wiped her tears. "Yes. This place is terrible. That other Veruca…terrible. I'm sorry if I was ever like that. I promise I'll never be that way again."

William only smiled at her in reply. He reached into his satchel and produced a blue candy.

"Eat this, and it will take you back home. Okay?"

Veruca nodded, took the candy, and ate it.

"Thank you," she said, then disappeared.

William stood up and sighed. "One down, three to go."

The next stop was Germany, and the Oompa-Loompas talked excitedly between themselves as the Elevator soared over rivers and mountains to reach its destination. This was their first time out of the country since leaving Loompaland, so it couldn't be helped. Eventually the Elevator touched down in the back garden of a nice little cottage. There were rosebushes and tulips and lilacs that indicated Mrs. Gloop's fondness for gardening, though she did not appear to be home at the moment. William and the Oompa-Loompas exited the Elevator and approached the back door, looking about cautiously for any bystanders who could be watching.

"This time, there might be two boys," William whispered to the Oompa-Loompas. "Not very bright ones, but one of them will be…how do you put it…hefty. Large. I'll probably need help in securing him."

The Oompa-Loompas nodded, and William tried the door. It was unlocked, and Jasku muttered to himself, though everyone heard him. "You'd think people would care about security these days." They went into the house, tiptoeing past the blind babysitter, who was still listening intently to the radio. They found their way to the kitchen, and of course that was where they found the Augustuses. They had eaten nearly everything edible in the kitchen, including the condiments and frostings and spices, and even a bowl of wax fruit. And William needn't have worried about a struggle—both boys were passed out cold, snoozing on the floor in piles of wrappers. Jasku went over to them both and put a hand to their necks to check their pulses.

"Sugar coma," he deduced. "Ganja, get the insulin."

After the boys were more or less stabilized, Alter Augustus was made to swallow a Forget-Me-Knot, and Augustus was given a blue Time Candy. Though the boys were unconscious, they swallowed instinctively. Augustus disappeared, and Alter Augustus rolled over and started snoring.

"Well, that's that," Jasku said brightly. They all exited through the front door, never once disturbing the blind babysitter.

"On to America!" William cried as the Elevator shot back into the air. He was feeling quite good, since his mission was going so well. _I'll be back home in no time,_ he thought to himself. The Elevator crossed the Himalayas, soared over China, Japan, and then the wide expanse of the Pacific Ocean. It was a credit to the Elevator's candy-powered construction that it could cross great distances so quickly, and in almost no time at all the ocean disappeared and the Elevator passed over deserts and great cities with giant skyscrapers. Finally they came to the town where Violet Beauregarde lived. Her house was in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, so there was really no way of landing without drawing attention, but Jasku did his best to bring the Elevator down behind some trees and bushes, where it was less likely to be noticed. William got out of the Elevator and approached Violet's house. Now he felt conspicuous in his purple jumpsuit, and being followed by four tiny men did nothing to lessen the feeling. Fortunately, the heat of the day had driven most people indoors. Only an old couple sitting on a bench were out to see him, and they only gave William a long, quizzical look before shaking their heads and turning the other way.

"This time there _might_ be two girls," William told the Oompa-Loompas. "You may be up for a fight…I think they're the competitive type."

As William and the Oompa-Loompas approached violet's house, it became more apparent that something was wrong. When they came to stand just before the door, the air seemed to change, like it was getting thicker. William tried the door, but found it locked.

"Finally some common sense," Jasku said cheerily, before producing a lock pick from his briefcase. He handed it to Lonki, who jumped up on Ganja's shoulders to reach the doorknob. It took a couple seconds, but he managed to pick the lock, the tumblers sliding into place with a satisfying click. William opened the door, and stared for a moment as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. There was Violet Beauregarde on one side of a table, and there were another girl, probably Alter Violet, standing on the other side. They appeared to be shaking hands, but then they appeared to be fighting, smiling and scowling all at once. And in the air, all around them, were bright little sparks of light that floated like frozen fireflies in the thickish air. The two girls appeared to be frozen one moment, then they would move quickly, like a video on fast forward. Then they would move very slowly, then rewind, and the actions would repeat.

"Time distortion," William muttered to himself. "This must be the paradox." He turned to the Oompa Loompas. "We have to separate them, get them far enough apart. Whatever's going on here, it has to be because they touched or they're too close together."

The Oompa-Loompas didn't stop to ask how he knew or what he meant—they broke off in pairs and leapt into the distorted air. William watched anxiously as the scene played out in slow motion, fast forward, and reverse. Two Oompa-Loompas grabbed hold of Violet, the other two grabbed Alter Violet. Violet looked surprised, but Alter Violet looked enraged—she kicked and punched at the tiny men, but they were able to nimbly dodge her because of their smaller size. They moved fluidly, like they were under water, and one pulled what looked like a gun from within his trench coat. He fired it twice, but to Wonka's relief it only fired tranquilizing darts. Violet fluidly crumpled to the ground, and the Oompa-Loompas fed her a Forget-Me-Knot before dragging her to the far side of the room. Meanwhile, the other two Loompas brought Violet to William. As soon as Alter Violet was far enough away, the thickish air seemed to clear, and the floating sparks disappeared. Violet and the Oompa-Loompas moved at a normal speed now, and as they came close to William, Violet gave a little gasp of recognition.

"Mr. Wonka? How did you get here?"

"Same as you," he answered. "But you seem to have changed, Violet. You're not blue anymore!"

Violet smiled, not a fake, plastic smile that she had been so used to putting on, but a real, honest-to-goodness smile of real joy. "I think that weird candy you gave me had something to do with it. There was this blur of colors when I ate it, and then I was normal again! But now there's that other Violet girl. Did you do that?"

"A little bit," William admitted. "But I have something for you that can make things go back to the way they were." He pulled out one of the blue time candies and gave it to her. "If you eat that, it will take you back home."

Violet hesitated. "Will I…be blue again?"

"I don't think so," William said thoughtfully, "but I do not know for sure. You will have to make the choice yourself—stay here with Alter Violet, or maybe turn blue again but be back at home. But I _can_ promise you this: if you do turn blue again, I will keep working on a way to make you normal again, until I find a way to do it. I've been meaning to tell you that I've been doing that—for you and Mike Teavee."

Violet smiled and gave William a brief hug. "Thank you, Mr. Wonka," she said. Then she put on a brave face, at the candy, and vanished. After she had gone, William turned to the Oompa-Loompas. "One more stop…"

Mike Teavee's home was only a few states over, so it was not long before the Elevator dropped down and landed, coming to rest in a backyard.

"I'm not quite sure what to expect with this one," William told the Oompa-Loompas as they drew near the back door. "Just stay on your toes."

"No worries there," Jasku said. "We've been trained for every situation imaginable."

William raised a brow. "How about factory accidents? Like if someone got sucked up the chocolate delivery pipe?"

"Oh, that's Scenario 58," Jasku said nonchalantly. " _Everyone_ gets trained for that one."

"We even have a song number for it," Kalgo chimed in, but before he could start singing it, Jasku stopped him with a punch on the shoulder. Chuckling, William tried the door, surprised to find it unlocked. He walked inside, followed closely by the Oompa-Loompas. Alternate Mike must have heard the door, because he cried out from the living room, "Mom! Dad! You should call the cops! This guy's some kind of alien who came to invade us!"

William went into the living room, where he saw Alter Mike glaring hostilely on one side of the room, and on the other…was Mike Teavee, restored to the size of an ordinary boy. He noticed William first, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"There won't be any cop-calling today," William said firmly. Alter Mike turned around, startled.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"It doesn't matter," William said. "I'm here for him, not you." He glanced at the Oompa-Loompas. "Make sure he forgets us."

The tiny men nodded and approached Alter Mike, who backed away quickly.

"Get away from me, you little freaks!" he shouted, but they were too fast for him. They tackled him to the floor and popped a Forget-Me-Knot into his mouth. He tried to spit it out, but Jasku chopped him in the throat and he swallowed it involuntarily. His struggling grew weaker as the candy began taking effect, but the boy managed to trip Ganja and knock down Lonki before he slipped into unconsciousness. The two Oompa-Loompas picked themselves up and joined the others to watch William talk to Mike Teavee. The candy maker went over to Mike and lowered himself to the floor to sit beside him.

"Hello, Mike," he said.

"Hello, Mr. Wonka," Mike replied. "Are you here for real, or is this all some weird dream that I'll wake up from, and be ten feet tall again?"

"I'm fairly certain you aren't dreaming," William assured him. "And I really am here. I came to bring you back home."

"So that other Mike is really real," Mike murmured. "And I'm guessing the other Ticket winners had the same thing happen to them."

"You were always the smart one," William said, smiling. "I've already sent them all home. You're the last one. Are you ready to go?"

"I…I don't know," Mike said slowly. "The other Mike is pretty mean—he _did_ punch me in the face. And if we touch or get too close together, these weird lights appear in the air that hurt when we touch them, and the air gets all heavy…if I stayed here, I would have to find somewhere else to live. It would be hard, but it would be better than being a freakish giant. Do you think I'll change back to the way I was when I go through that tunnel again?"

"You saw the tunnel?" William asked, intrigued. "What happened?"

"Well," Mike started, "I ate the glowing green candy you sent and then I found myself traveling through a colorful tunnel of swirling lights, and these round, vapory things attached to me and somehow made me normal again." He grinned slightly at the memory. "I think those things are alive. Do you know what they are? Have you seen them?"

"Yes," William said, "I have. I don't know what they are…I've never seen anything like them before. And I've seen a lot, mind you. I think we'll call those things in the tunnel 'Timeys', and assume they're there to restore balance to reality…or something. They certainly brought balance to you, and also to Violet Beauregarde."

"It worked for Violet, too?" Mike asked, shocked.

"Oh, yes. And probably for Augustus Gloop and Veruca Salt as well, though whatever they fixed won't show up as clearly as on you."

Mike seemed to think about this for a moment, then he stood up. "I'm ready."

William pushed himself to his feet, and he gave Mike one of the blue candies from his satchel. "Goodbye, Mike. And good luck."

"Mike smiled bravely at Wonka as he ate the candy, disappearing a moment after.

"That's it," William said to the Oompa-Loompas. "Our mission is complete. Let's get back to the factory."

The Oompa-Loompas nodded and followed him out of the house, leaving Alter Mike sleeping peacefully on the floor.

When they returned to Willy Wonka's factory, Willy met them at his office. There, he commended the agents for their help and gave them the rest of the week off with pay. Then Willy shook William's hand to congratulate him, and William stopped to look at his own hand.

"What's wrong?" Willy asked.

"The paradox," William said slowly. "When the kids from my reality and the kids from your reality touched or got too close together, they created some kind of distortion in time and space. But when you and I touch, there doesn't seem to be a problem."

"I'm wearing gloves," Willy pointed out.

William shrugged. "Could be that. Could be magic, for all I know. But in any case, I am grateful for your help, Mr. Wonka."

Willy beamed. "Any time, Mr. Wonka. If you need my help again, you know where to find me."

William chuckled, then ate the blue Time Candy.

He was absorbed again into the colors and smells of the time tunnel, but this time he noticed more of the wispy orbs, or "Timeys" as he had decided to call them. They floated around him, with him, and sometimes _through_ him. They floated alone, or in schools of several or a dozen, and now that William was focusing on them, he realized the singing or whirring was coming _from_ them. And when he realized that, he began to recognize the song they were singing. But before he could remember where he had heard it from, he arrived at the end of the tunnel.

He found himself back in his office, with its halfway furniture and eccentric picture frames and colorful carpets. _It was over._ He breathed a long sigh of satisfaction, then pressed the intercom button on his desk.

"Please send Jonju to my office."

"Of course, sir," a secretary Oompa-Loompa replied. A minute later, the office doors burst open, and a relieved Jonju came in.

"You're back…good. You'll be happy to hear that the four missing children were found, each one back in their homes. Your return candies worked."

"Glad to hear it," Wonka said.

"What's more," Jonju continued, "is that the charges against us for causing the disappearances have all been dropped. In fact, the Teavee and Beauregarde families are actually _thanking_ us for whatever happened."

"And why is that?" Wonka said, though he had already guessed.

"They are normal again. Violet is no longer violet colored, and Mike is only a little taller than average for his age. Whatever you did to them with that experimental candy, it helped them quite a bit."

"I'm glad it worked," Wonka sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. He didn't like to admit it, but the adventures—and his age—were catching up with him.

"How is Charlie and his family?" he asked.

"Good. They helped us harvest caramel apples today. They're holding a picnic in the Cocoa Beach Room," Jonju replied. "They're having dinner, so if you go now, you can join them."

"I think I will," Wonka said, dropping the satchel on his desk. "If there's anything I've learned from this whole traveling-through-space-and-time business, it's that there's no time like the present…so it shouldn't be taken for granted."


	8. Epilogue

**Author's Note:** Thank you sileice for your review! We are glad you enjoyed the story! It is our hope that others will enjoy these stories as much as we enjoy writing them. Adieu.

* * *

It might be cliché to say that everyone got a happy ending, but it would be no less true. What could have been an utter disaster, actually turned out for the good of all those involved. Augustus Gloop had actually eaten himself _so_ sick, that the very idea of sweets and fatty foods made him quite ill for a long while after. So he began eating good foods like fruits and meats and vegetables, and slimmed down to a healthy size, and was quite happy for it in the end.

Veruca Salt also went through a transformation—spending time with the alternate Veruca had shown her the worst in herself, and she became determined to be quite different from then on. Selfless, gracious, and kind rather than selfish and rude. It was not easy, but she made an effort, and over time she became a lovely and respectable young lady that made both her and her family happier than they'd ever been before.

As for Violet Beauregarde, she was no longer blueberry-colored, and she became a more relaxed and easygoing person because she let go of her over-competitive tendencies. She was also still gum-free, and though Cornelia Prinzmetal _did_ end up breaking her record, she no longer cared so much because she finally realized how gross it was to keep chewing the same piece of gum for months on end.

The happiest of them all, of course, was probably Mike Teavee. He was normal height again, and he was back home with his parent and books and basketball and comics. He had a lot of exploring to do to make up for the years he had wasted watching television. New friends to make, places to go, things to see…it was a lot to think about, but Mike often found his mind drifting back to Willy Wonka and the wonders of his factory. He remembered how, back during the tour, Mr. Wonka had seemed so calm and collected, even when the kids misbehaved and fell into an accident one by one.

"They'll all come out in the wash," he'd said repeatedly. So had Mr. Wonka known, even then, that everything would turn out all right? Perhaps Mike would ask him, the next time he wrote a letter. Or maybe he should just leave it, to the world of pure imagination.


End file.
